Page 48 of Twisted Devotion

Kyle texts me the address of an Indian restaurant in downtown Rockdale, and I meet him there shortly after six. The place is small and quiet. The lights are dim, but I recognize Kyle from across the room.

He stands as I approach the table and hugs me. “Good to see you, Kels.”

I smile at him, hanging my purse on the back of the chair before I sit. “You, too. I’m really happy I ran into you at the café.”

“Same here,” he says, beaming. “I wish it hadn’t taken us so long to reconnect. I feel like we have a lifetime of things to catch up on.”

He’s not wrong. Too bad I can’t share much of what’s happened in my life since he left it.

The young-looking waiter approaches our table with a pitcher of water and tops off Kyle’s glass before filling mine. “Good evening,” he says. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “Water is fine, thank you.”

He nods. “And you, sir?”

“I’m good, too, thanks.”

“Will you be needing more time with the menus?”

Considering I haven’t even had a chance to look at mine, I say, “Yes, please.”

The waiter nods, wiping his hand on his apron, then walks back into the kitchen where soft music and the sounds of dishes clanging together float into the dining room.

There are a few other tables around us with people eating their meals and chatting, but I do my best to tune out their words—and their emotions. I want to attempt to have a normal dinner with my foster brother.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” I ask, still glancing over the menu in front of me.

“I’m a plain guy. I’m going with the butter chicken with chick peas and rice.”

“Mmm. That sounds good.” I fold my menu and look up at Kyle. “So, what’s new?”

“Since I saw you the other day, or since we lived together years ago?”

I chuckle. “Fair point. May as well start at the beginning.”

Kyle nods. “After I was relocated, I had to switch schools. There was a teacher there I really came to like, who encouraged me to get into science. My foster parents, while very supportive, couldn’t afford to send me to college, so I started working as much as I could. I worked at a country club for a few summers as a server, which made me decent money. The tips were great, too, but having to work while being in school made keeping my grades up more difficult than I initially expected.

“The Christmas before my high school graduation, my foster parents gave me the money for my first semester so I could get on my feet and settle in before getting a job.”

“Wow,” I say. “That was generous of them.”

He nods. “Fast forward through my bachelor’s degree, a.k.a four years of hell, living off very little sleep, coffee, and ramen noodles, and now I’m in grad school. Because apparently my undergrad wasn’t torture enough and I enjoy being deep in debt.”

I press my lips together in a feeble attempt to mask my grin. “You’ve accomplished a lot, though,” I praise him. I never had the opportunity to go to college. Though, I suppose I could now—or, after this assignment—if I wanted to, but the desire to sit in a classroom for so many hours every week doesn’t do anything for me. I’ve learned a lot by the experiences I’ve had and that suits me just fine.

Kyle smiles. “Thanks, Kels. I don’t have long to go now, which I’m grateful for. One final project this semester and then next is a work term.”

Nodding along, I ask, “What’s the project?”

“I have to work with a local business . . .”

Kyle goes on to describe the project and I’m quickly lost in a fog of business terms I don’t understand. I should’ve brought Aurora to translate—damn business major.

“That’s . . . Wow,” I finally comment, and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a bunch of gibberish if you don’t know the lingo.”

I nod in agreement. “Have you found a local business to work with?”

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